


Dragon Boy

by Nicolefrickle



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Age Difference, Biting, Height Differences, M/M, Older Man/Younger Man, One Shot, Sexting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:14:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21666514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nicolefrickle/pseuds/Nicolefrickle
Summary: Raihan makes a bad decision and sends Kabu a nude.And he's always had a hard time takingnofor an answer.
Relationships: Kabu/Kibana | Raihan
Comments: 52
Kudos: 693





	Dragon Boy

It all starts with a picture.

It isn't on purpose—Raihan promises that much, crosses his heart. It's not like he _meant_ to send old Kabu a risque photo of himself late at night, all alone, while he was craving attention from something other than the amorphous blob of fans he usually turns to _._ And it's not like he'd spent the better part of thirty minutes lazily scrolling through all his contacts, categorizing each and every one as a "maybe," or a "never," or an "only if I'm drunk."

But he isn't drunk, so Leon doesn't get the picture this time. It's too bad his rival doesn't know what he's missing out on tonight, because Raihan looks _good._ Of course he does, he always does and Kabu will figure it out now if he hasn't already.

Although Kabu is hard to read, so that part's still up in the air. If Raihan wasn't feeling so greedy, maybe he would've spent more than ten seconds thinking this all through. _Kabu_ was his cure for boredom? The old man who's been nothing but strictly polite, so goddamn humble, and who isn't even a _little_ entertained by Raihan's charm in the way everyone else seems to be?

"Message! Message!"

But they all fall at Raihan's feet, one way or another.

Now Raihan bites his thumb with a smile and pulls his Rotom-phone close, clicking on the notification in question. Just one message? But Kabu has never been much of a talker, so anything he typed would be worth its weight in gold. It'll taste good no matter how short. What does Raihan want to hear, from the old man that he'd been trying to string along from the very start?

To call him pretty, maybe.

Leon does. It hits the spot, sometimes, when he's the one asking for it.

Or maybe he wants Kabu to say something so irresistibly direct—which Raihan doesn't let himself _hope_ for, but knows he'd open right up if his dreams came true. Kabu is the kind of man who doesn't tiptoe around or waste time tracing fine lines. It must come with the experience, or the age, so if he _wants_ Raihan he'll come right out and say it—just like that. _I want you, dragon boy._

And then Kabu will take him.

So, something like that is what Raihan is expecting when he finally checks the message, and not the two-word reply he'd actually received:

**< Wrong number.**

Raihan bites down on his thumb too hard now, drawing blood before wiping it haphazardly on his bare thigh and leaving red streaks. Kabu's sidestep cuts into his pride more than a rejection ever could. Was the picture not _good enough?_

Oh, but of course it was. Leon helps convince him of that, when Raihan dumps out his _only if I'm drunk_ box and re-sorts it to his needs now: validation in whatever form it comes in. Hearts and blush and fire; Leon gives him all the emotes and dirty words he could ever want, just like he's good for. But they're shallow pools of attention and not the kind he was hoping to drink. It's too _easy._

Leon's predictability puts Raihan right to sleep, still shirtless and needy, and aching even more than he was in the first place.

So he arrives in Motostoke the next day, because Raihan doesn't know how to follow fine lines drawn into the sand, either. He kicks them until they're erased from the earth, and he can step over the mess he'd made without feeling guilty about it. Boundaries have never been on his radar, anyway.

Raihan doesn't stop for one second to think about what he's doing. He doesn't need a plan—wherever he goes the world picks up its pace, so it can catch his heels and keep on revolving around him. And when Raihan sees Kabu now, the world can't help but spin faster.

"Hey, Kabu!" It's like last night never even happened. Raihan is right back in complete control, and he finds that Kabu's rejection doesn't sting so much in person, especially with that reply of his deleted and purged. He doesn't know why he was so stuck on it, anyway. Kabu isn't _intimidating,_ he's just someone that Raihan hasn't quite figured out how to approach.

Kabu waits for him to walk over. The side-door to his locker room is right there, but he doesn't look uncomfortable to see Raihan, or like he's silently plotting an escape route. They're both just fine with letting this play out. They meet like myths; the immovable object and the unstoppable force that can't help but keep pushing.

"Raihan."

Humble old man. He keeps everything short and polite, it makes Raihan want to coax the rest out of him.

Raihan flashes his fangs. "You busy?"

"Well, I do have a challenger lined up today."

Kabu means a gym challenger, but for some ungodly reason it feels like he's talking about Raihan, too. His eyes are full of fire, full of passion. Dragon boy's come to town to fuck with him in person; teeth bared, leaning down and drawing unwanted attention to the difference in their heights. Was it always this noticeable? Raihan never stood next to him before, at least not when he wanted him.

But he wants him now. Maybe last night it was just the ease of tapping Kabu's name and sending out a message in a bottle, but it's different standing in front of him. Taller than him. Seeing those humble eyes and that sturdy stance, like nothing could ever knock him off-balance. So of course Raihan writes a promise that he'll be the one to break Kabu first.

"You worried they might beat you?"

Kabu looks him in the eyes. "If they do, then I'm sure they deserve to."

Not too proud to lose, then—Raihan likes that. It means Kabu isn't going to be stubborn about Raihan's advances, that instead he's just waiting to be won over the right way, the _old-fashioned_ way. Cheap drinks and shirtless pictures won't work on him like it does with Leon. He isn't _easy._ Raihan doesn't know what he is.

The thought of working Kabu over turns him on even more, and then comes deciding on his endgame, because until now he was just feeling things out. He's open to the possibilities, all the ways he wants to experience Kabu's _break_. Kabu wrapped around his finger, Kabu on his tiptoes, Kabu's tongue in his mouth, bitten bloody, eager.

This isn't a conversation now, it's nothing but foreplay.

"I could help warm you up," Raihan offers, in whatever way that Kabu decides to take it.

But it's Raihan's first lesson on winning over Kabu: charm doesn't work on him. It's a fucking mystery trying to figure out what will. His heart starts to pulse at the way Kabu stares up at him, and soon Raihan's revving up with a laugh to break the silence before it gets _uncomfortable_. "Just one battle, you can lock the doors if you don't want a spectacle. No one has to watch."

Kabu's eyebrows furrow. He's probably shocked that the _dragon boy_ is okay being out of the limelight, so much so that he's thinking about the offer to battle, he's really considering it—

"Is this about that photo, Raihan?"

Raihan's breath catches in his throat, and he's overcompensating with a grin that even _he_ doesn't believe, so Kabu surely doesn't. It was the last thing Raihan expected to hear. He stumbles through an answer and finds himself along the way, "Ah, about that. Rotom has a mind of its own sometimes, doesn't it? I swore I told it _Habu_."

He tugs at his headband the same way someone would tug at the collar of their shirt, sweaty with the heat of guilt. Guilty for sorting Kabu as a _maybe,_ guiltier for thinking he could crack him, and guiltiest for standing here right now, trying it again. He's only sure it'll work because it always has.

"You came here to apologize?" Kabu puts him on the spot. He'd noticed that there wasn't an apology in Raihan's excuse, how _observant_ of him.

Raihan flashes his best-kept smile. "I came to make things right."

"By battling me," Kabu wonders.

"That's got nothing to do with it, I just thought it'd be a good opportunity. I have a feeling you'd get my blood pumping, Kabu." It's pumping right now, hot and fast with no reprieve in sight. Adrenaline does wonders for his body—this is already better than any match. He's feeling lucky enough to try another shot in the dark, too, "But _making things right_ means whatever you need it to mean."

Kabu presses his mouth into a thin line, and Raihan would do some truly awful things to be able to see what he's thinking. How he's wrapping his mind around all this. Is this what Kabu's face looked like when he'd opened the picture last night, or was it less confusion, more _interest?_ And what if he still _has it?_ What if he'd looked at it for a long, long time, really sunk his teeth into it—a picture of the dragon boy laid-out and posed, the one he'd never said more than a few nice words to.

He isn't married; maybe Kabu gets lonely. Maybe Raihan is lonely for him.

"I think a sorry will do just fine," Kabu decides. He doesn't wait to hear it, though, he's twisting open the knob and taking that escape-route he'd saved from before. Raihan doesn't know what else to do but shut up and follow him inside. He'll take the opportunity to try and quickly remember how _sorry_ works, if that's what the old man wants. How to make it sound believable enough for a someone like Kabu.

They're in the locker room that leads to the stadium, now, built to be the gym leader's space before a match. To breathe, to stretch. Maybe to pull out Rotom and look at the picture of Raihan they'd saved in their phone.

Raihan is sweating under his hoodie when he takes stock of where they are, how no one else could interrupt them. It's just him and Kabu. The old man and the dragon boy that he'd somehow managed to tame without Raihan ever realizing it.

His heart roars in his chest.

"How am I saying sorry?" Raihan wonders now. He lowers the pitch of his voice, waiting for some inevitable, explosive moment of release that never comes. Kabu acts just like before, like he doesn't know how to approach him so he'd rather just keep his distance. Dragons bite—and all Raihan's been doing is showing his teeth.

Kabu rubs at the column of his throat while he wonders, too.

And then dropping the politeness completely, _"Come here."_

So Raihan goes to him.

It's not like Raihan is in the state of mind to refuse, or to waste his breath pretending. He isn't leaving now without getting what he wants. He's out here chasing his dreams; Raihan had come the whole way to Motostoke, hoping to still taste Kabu on his tongue while riding the taxi home.

Raihan stops just inches away, baring his teeth once again. "Yeah?"

Kabu shifts a little closer too, and there's that _obscene_ height difference making itself known again, drilling into Raihan's skull until he's sure he'd go brain-dead thinking about it. Old Kabu, standing a foot shorter and still asking for that apology owed. He'll have to lean up on his toes, if it's Raihan's smart mouth he wants to take. But Raihan doesn't mind waiting a second to see the fireworks.

Kabu looks like his head is somewhere else altogether. There's a heavy breath from his chest, and then, almost _disappointed,_ "You could've owned up to it, Raihan. It's a lot easier when I know what you want."

 _Fuck._ Raihan swipes his tongue across his lip trying to think of something clever to say back, something Kabu would expect to hear from him.

_You think I'm easy? Is that what you're trying to say?_

But instead Raihan just ends up sounding altogether _needy._

"So you liked the picture?"

He's all but asking for validation now, the kind that he didn't get last night and tried to leech from Leon instead, even knowing how flat it would fall. But Kabu's won't. The thought of hearing his true thoughts spreads something warm through Raihan's chest; it's attention, the attention that he craves. It tastes good already. Maybe it'll mean a compliment back if the old man's feeling generous, or a _touch,_ if Raihan is allowed to dream.

_If you liked it, what the fuck are we still doing talking?_

Kabu makes a noise from his throat that's just barely an answer—no compliment, no touch. Raihan rocks forward impatiently but manages to stay just barely composed. He's still willing enough to wait.

"Am I still apologizing, then?" Raihan almost wants to. For Kabu he would, even if he doesn't mean it. And there are a hundred different ways he could say it, but Raihan gravitates to one in particular; the blurry image of himself, on his knees, kissing that _sorry_ right into the tip of Kabu's dick.

So that's the endgame, now.

"I don't want to battle," Kabu finally tells him. "I don't want to talk."

Raihan can't help but notice: that doesn't leave much room for anything else. But he doesn't have to wonder for long, Kabu commands all his attention. "Why'd you come here, Raihan?" His name rolls off Kabu's tongue with such confidence that Raihan can't even wrap his mind around it. It's too smooth. It's the fireworks he was hoping for, all of them at once.

Kabu looks into his eyes, "Tell me why."

"I came here—" Raihan can't lie and he doesn't want to. "'Cause I wanted to finally talk to you, I wanted to see what I could make you do. I bet you're a whole different man once I strip away those defenses of yours, right?" _fuck_ , he can't stop talking, he's lost in the fantasy he'd built up, and now it's as much of a show as anything else. "You lured me in here like I wouldn't even notice. Is _that_ you, Kabu? An old man who set his eyes on a pretty young celebrity like me?"

It's all out in the open, now.

"Pretty, huh..." Kabu echoes, and touches him for the very first time. Just a swipe of his thumb across Raihan's chin—one second before it's gone again and he's left wanting like nothing else he's ever felt before. "But young? Raihan, I hope you aren't taking me for an old fool. You're the one who decided to pursue _me,_ and maybe it's just like you said: who am I to deny some pretty young thing, tripping over himself to apologize?"

Kabu's touch comes back once again, this time curling over Raihan's jaw and holding it firmly. It doesn't seem to matter anymore how Kabu has to reach for it.

"You're quite the star, dragon boy. Why don't you show me how _good_ you can make an apology look?"

And then Raihan is sinking down to the floor from the weight of those words. Kabu doesn't break; _he does._ Dragon boy never even managed to make him _flinch._ That takes strength. It's that exact kind of confidence that puts the strongest gym leader in Galar on his knees, right at Kabu's feet.

He's already digging his fingers under Kabu's waistband when there's a flash of light, and the sound of a shutter. Raihan's heart skyrockets into his throat. He tilts his head up and Kabu is eagerly watching him perform, eyes creased at the edges. It could be a smile if he allowed it to be.

Rotom spins around to another angle, takes another picture of Raihan on the floor, doing whatever the old man wants him to. There's a blush set high on Raihan's cheeks, now. He swallows his hesitation.

Kabu moves his hand to Raihan's hair, sliding under his headband and pushing it back. He chastises him, "Raihan, don't tell me you've gotten camera shy, now."

Raihan bites his bottom lip, and he's back to giving Kabu his full attention. _Flash, flash,_ it doesn't matter, Raihan knows he looks good with his tongue rolling up Kabu's dick. Old man will have pictures to look at later, and maybe Kabu will sort Raihan into his own very box, _pretty boys who won't say no._

His pulse races with every flash, he knows that it could be blackmail. But he trusts Kabu more than he should, it isn't like he _manipulated_ Raihan. Raihan was the one who chased him to this faraway little town, his fire gym, a dull city spitting out from a mountain. All this way for a taste. Was Kabu hoping he'd take the bait when he acted like he wasn't interested?

_Wrong number._

Kabu saved his picture from last night; Raihan knows without a doubt.

His eyes go wide and starry as he works Kabu's dick now, providing for the camera, giving snapshots of picture-perfect filth. His headband falls to the floor and he shifts on his knees, aching over how Kabu put him in his place so easily. The old man's dick is so _full,_ too. The height difference doesn't matter with Raihan on his knees, a nice, big cock on his tongue. He opens his mouth wide for it as spit dribbles down to the tile, and there's a wet trail from his lips anytime he pulls away.

Raihan is supposed to be apologizing for something, isn't he?

"Sorry," he mutters it like an afterthought, kissing it right into Kabu's rose-red tip just like he'd wanted to. "I'm real sorry."

Then Kabu's dick is filling his throat as Raihan swallows him down, even more unintelligible apologies humming against it. Kabu throbs and tightens his hand in the roots of Raihan's dreadlocks. And then _there it is—_ the first real noise of interest that Kabu makes, rumble in his chest that opens up and spills out like finely-aged wine to drink.

There are flashes of picture after picture now as Raihan sucks. Rotom's getting it all, every moment framed, and Raihan's sure he looks like the dirty dragon boy he's trying so hard to be. He moans, full and drooling. Tears spill over his eyelids but he'd rather choke than try to breathe.

"Raihan, teeth—"

He quickly pulls away and swallows some of the mess to find his voice again. It isn't smooth like before, there's a tremor when he promises, "I'll be careful."

But Kabu says it again, fiercer this time, _"Teeth,"_ and with a lurch in his guts, Raihan realizes that he's making a _request._

 _Fuck;_ Raihan groans and looks up at him with widened eyes, slitted pupils, fangs on display just for Kabu's benefit. Is this what he wanted all along? Kabu's lips twitch as he guides Raihan's mouth back to the base of his dick. _Flash, flash_ —and now _bite._

He doesn't do it hard. It's a graze of his canines against the hilt of Kabu's swollen dick, and afterward he moves to the top of his thick, muscular thigh and bites again. Now things start changing. Raihan can be an animal—his fangs sink in and Kabu makes that fine-wine noise from before, and he's ordering Raihan to do it again, _again._ Oh, Kabu really must love his new dragon toy, the one hell-bent on servicing him. Eager to make him bleed.

Raihan licks his wounded skin and tastes a flash of blood but it doesn't matter, he's right back to Kabu's dick, taking it all down again. Worrying the points of his teeth against it, just enough to get the old man's heart pumping. He knows he's doing good. Kabu would've told him if he wasn't.

_"Raihan."_

Kabu clutches at his hair, calling out his name like a compliment. All he needs is for Raihan to keep going, don't stop, _don't stop—_ so Raihan blows his mind, dripping with enthusiasm and looking irresistible for both the camera and Kabu alike. Raihan scratches the same thigh he'd bitten and warms Kabu up in his mouth. He gives him a taste of everything at once; feral fangs, the hum of his tongue, another messy apology. Raihan knows what he needs.

Then Kabu says his name again, low and guttural. He holds Raihan in place and bucks into his mouth, coming down his throat because he knows that Raihan will make a show out of swallowing, too, just like everything else.

 _Flash, flash;_ Rotom gets every angle. His throat bobs up and down and all he tastes is _Kabu._

And when he pulls away he's sure to look straight into the camera before sticking out his tongue—still covered in cum—and then bites down on it to flash his teeth while he smiles. Kabu's eyes are closed as he rides out his climax, but he'll appreciate Raihan's showmanship later. A pretty boy never disappoints.

Raihan is sure that photo's a keeper.

**Author's Note:**

> I LOVE THIS SHIP


End file.
